The Once and Future King
by Beaufortninja
Summary: Medieval 2 Total War fic about Prince Rufus, the son of William the Conqueror who joins the crusade. On his way he'll face danger, betrayl, sadness, love, and selfdiscovery. Rated M to be safe. Cool people leave reviews. NO FLAMES!
1. Chapter 1

**The Once and Future King**

Disclaimer- I don't own the Total War series. Just this story.

This chapter is just a pilot for a story I've got in my head. Anyway it's about the Odyssey of Prince Rufus and the epic journey that he went on in my campaign on Medieval 2 Total War. His personality derives from the traits and retinue that he currently has.

Prince Rufus of England, son of the great William the Conqueror, gazed into the distance at the beautiful mountains of northern Italy as he brushed his brown hair out of his sky blue eyes. The sun was just beginning to dip behind the horizon, casting the fertile valley in the pink and orange light of the sunset. The setting betrayed his grim mission. A crusade had been called and his target was the city of Antioch. His father had told him to crush all enemies in his path and seize the holy land for England.

Rufus sighed, "It seems he's more concerned with expansion than fighting for God."

He heard footsteps approaching and turned to see Captain James walking quickly his way. The young captain bowed, "Sire, the Milanese refuse to grant us passage through their territory."

"What!?" Rufus shouted in anger, catching the attention of several of his men who were busy setting up camp. "How dare they impede the march of a crusading army!"

"Sir, they have held us up here for two weeks now. The men are getting restless and a few units have talked about joining the deserters who left last week," Captain James said in a worried tone of voice.

"_Giovani, that bastard of a king! How could he disrespect our alliance in this manner?_" Rufus thought to himself as he balled his fist and gritted his teeth. "No matter! We will continue through their lands and defeat any army that stands in our way. An army of God can never be defeated," he said turning to regard the captain. "Send dispatches to the Pope and my father and inform them of the situation." The captain bowed, "Yes my lord," and hurried off.

Rufus returned his attention to the sunset and noticed that some stars were starting to come out. He frowned again as he thought about his current predicament. The English and Milanese had been on shaky terms ever since the Battle of Paris where the English forces had destroyed the Franco-Milanese Alliance in one cataclysmic battle. Rufus closed his eyes as he remembered leading the heavy cavalry charge into the left flank of the enemy and absent mindedly rubbed the scar on his shoulder, a solemn reminder of the price of victory. That victory had secured English control of the top half of France and destroyed Milanese influence in the area.

Rufus paused as he remembered his words to Captain James. "An army of God can never be defeated? I am unfit to lead an army of God," he muttered to himself as he looked at his wedding ring. He had long had a mistress, Armelle, unknown to his Spanish princess bride Teresa. Rufus was seven years her senior at age thirty and had three children by her. She loved him and did what she could to make him happy. He couldn't bear it when she smiled that gentle smile of hers, his heart twisted in agony as he kept his dirty secret. And every time he would swear to himself that he would end his affair with Armelle, but each time he would falter under her sweet caress.

"Dear. Is everything alright?" Rufus heard a sweet voice ask. "_Speak of the devil,_" he groaned on the inside. It's not that he despised her, but he wasn't in the mood while in his introspective state.

"Yes," he said not facing her.

"Are you angry with me?" Armelle asked in a hurt voice that tugged at his heart.

He sighed as he turned and placed his hands on her shoulders, "No," he said as he looked upon her heavenly features. She looked so much like Teresa. "_Is that why I like having her around? Is it because I imagine that she is Teresa? What's wrong with me_?" he thought to himself. "Things . . . just got a little more complicated. It's about to get very dangerous here, I don't want you to get hurt. You should go back." He said as he wiped a tear from her eye and stroked her long black hair. "_She's just as sensitive as Teresa._"

"You're so thoughtful. Always thinking of others," she said as she took his hand in hers.

"_If you only knew my sweet, sweet Armelle_."

Remember, this is just a pilot. Reviews, and constructive criticism are most welcome but no flames please. Also, tell me what you want to see in the story. shoulf armelle stay or leave? Let me know what you think. Later!


	2. Chapter 2

Sorry for taking so long to update but I've been busy with college and other stories and stuff. And another thing! How many dicks does a guy gotta suck to get some reviews around here!? On with the story.

Disclaimer- Don't own anything blah blah.

It had been several hours since the army had stricken camp and begun the march to the coast where Rufus hoped they would be able to hire out some galleys for transport at least as far Ephesus in what was left of the Byzantine Empire.

"It's like hell twice out here!" a young knight complained behind him, eliciting a tired laugh from many of the men. It was indeed an unusually hot summer day in the Milanese countryside.

Captain James rode up beside him, "The Milanese are shadowing the column sir. They outnumber us two to one," he reported gravely.

Huffing angrily, Rufus said, "If they can muster twenty-thousand men just to harass us then they have plenty of manpower to join the crusade. And it's not like they're trying to hide themselves. Look there," the prince pointed to a ridge in the distance where several horsemen dressed in green observed the traveling army. Turning back to his captain Rufus ordered, "Reform the army into the box formation with the baggage train in the center."

Nodding, James turned and rode off at speed towards the rear of the column shouting his lord's command. The box formation would enable them to protect their supplies and non-combatants no matter which direction the enemy attacked from.

For the next several hours the army marched in tense silence, keeping a wary eye glued to the horsemen following along the ridge. They were trying to conceal their numbers but the amount of dust kicked up by all the men and horses gave away the scale and positions of the Milanese forces. It was obvious to the prince that they were looking for the perfect opportunity to attack, and with their current strength it wouldn't be much of a battle. The grim truth sank in. If he didn't think of something soon he'd pay for his sins a little sooner than he would like. He thought deeply a while before an idea came to him.

"Captain, let me see the map."

The young officer fished the parchment scroll from his satchel and handed it to him, giving him a questioning look. They had bought it from a hunter as they passed through a small village. He had guaranteed its accuracy on his life, a good enough assurance in Rufus' opinion. Unrolling it, he traced their path to where they now were. The Tanaro River wasn't far from their present position. The river wasn't very wide but it formed the border between Milan and the Holy Roman Empire. The Emperor Henry had married Rufus's sister Adela a few years ago and was a close ally of England. If they could make it to the river they could link up with the Imperial crusaders and continue the journey.

"We'll stop here for now. Have the men make camp," ordered Rufus, looking to see how much daylight was left, perhaps three or four hours.

"My lord? Here?" questioned his second in command.

"Yes. Have the men dig some ditches around the camp. Keep it tight."

"You have a plan, lord?"

The prince nodded, "Gather the officers for a council in one hour and have the crossbowman stand watch."

James rode off to do his bidding. There were several murmurs as the soldiers received his orders. It was ludicrous, he knew that. To camp in the middle of the afternoon with a hostile force so nearby was downright stupid, but he had a plan. Other than the ridge which the Milanese occupied it was a relatively flat area with a nasty bog on the left flank, protecting that side from a cavalry charge. They had that much going for them at least.

The baggage train was quickly unloaded as the tents were handed out. Rufus' own command tent was brought over and set up in no time at all with the officers arriving shortly after. They numbered about twenty in all, each in charge of their own company. Rufus took a seat at the head of a long table, his officers sitting after him.

"Alright gentlemen. We are deep behind enemy lines and are outnumbered two to one. The men are growing restless and desertion is becoming a problem. It's time to turn things around," Rufus began as an assistant unfurled a larger version of the map from earlier, a copy done by one of the scribes trailing the army.

"My plan is to strike camp in a few hours and march through the night to the bridge here," Rufus pointed to a spot on the map, "Here we can make our stand against the Milanese. The narrowness of the bridge will make their numbers count for nothing!"

It was silent for a moment before a short stocky man asked, "My lord, what if they attack before we can leave? Or what if they don't attack us at all when we reach the bridge?"

"If they attack before we can withdraw then we will be defeated. But if we can make it to the bridge they will have no choice but to attack. They've been following us for over a week, they hate us, they have the advantage in numbers, and Milanese knights are notoriously undisciplined. Remember Dijon? How they charged without orders and were massacred?"

"My lord's words carry weight. What would you have us do?" asked James.

"Have the men stay in their armor but let them get some food and shut eye while they can after the defenses are set up. Start some camp fires so we keep up the illusion."

There was some commotion outside, gaining the attention of everyone in the tent. One of the guards from the doorway entered.

"My lord, there is a messenger from the Milanese who wishes to speak to you."

There were some gasps and more than a few curses. Did they come to deliver an ultimatum? Probably a demand for surrender. Haughty as they were, Rufus had to admit that the Milanese were shrewd diplomats, using their silver tongues to swindle what they couldn't take through force.

"I'll meet with him," he told the guard.

The sentry turned and left. Soon a tall, lanky man entered, dressed in a green tunic and trousers.

"Prince Rufus, I have come to tell you that my master, Martino della Torre, wishes to meet with you," he spoke with a superiority that grated on the young prince's nerves.

"What does he wish to discuss?"

"Your surrender."

There was an instant uproar. All the men standing from their seats, ready to draw blood. Rufus silenced them all with a slam of his fist on the table. All were quiet as their eyes turned to their leader.

"I'll meet with him."

* * *

Rufus stood at the spot indicated by the messenger, flanked by two guards, Captain James and veteran knight. They had fought together many times but Rufus was embarrassed to admit that he had never learned the middle-aged man's name. Before long Martino and his escort came into view. They stopped about fifty paces away and dismounted. Martino started walking to meet him halfway.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing, sir?" the older knight asked.

"I hadn't expected this. Let's just play it by ear, shall we?" This elicited a sigh from the older man as Rufus walked to meet his enemy.

Rufus knew a little of the man before him. He was the nephew of Giovanni, the Doge or king or Milan. He was inexperienced in the ways of war but apparently was an able administrator. Rumor also had it that he preferred men in his bed. Rufus came to a stop in front of Martino. He was a very feminine looking young man with pale skin a delicate features. He was about a head shorter than Rufus with green eyes and close cut black hair. His armor was clearly for show as it was heavily ornamented with intricate designs and precious metals. Both men were silent for a while before Martino broke the silence.

"I wish for you to surrender. There is no need for you and your soldiers to die."

"We are a crusading army marching under the banner of the cross. For you to impede our march is in direct violation of the Treaty of London that ended the war two years ago. Not only that, but by the Pope's decree, any nation who attacks an army fighting for God is to be excommunicated."

"I'm just following orders," the Millanian countered.

"And you would lose your soul in the process?

Martino remained silent at that.

"My army will not surrender. If you wish to do battle all I ask is that you let my men prepare themselves. Let them make their peace, and tomorrow we can fight it out to our hearts content," Rufus said, praying that he would accept.

Martino gauged him for a moment, "Very well. We will do battle tomorrow at dawn. Be ready."

And with that, he turned around and strode back to his escorts. Rufus did the same, trying to suppress the grin threatening to break out across his face. James noticed the corners of his prince's mouth turning up in a small smile.

"What happened?"

"If he keeps his word they won't attack until morning. As soon as the night is at its darkest we'll begin the march. If everything goes as planned we'll be eating bratwurst for lunch tomorrow!"

It's been a long time since I updated so I forget where I was going with the story. I still don't really know but I'll manage somehow. Cool people leave reviews. Will **NOT** update until I get some reviews.


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